


what my body needs is you

by lilithiumwords



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, M/M, Summer of pining, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 18:09:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19361965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithiumwords/pseuds/lilithiumwords
Summary: Yuuri just wants to be touched. He doesn't think of asking for it.





	what my body needs is you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aurum_Auri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurum_Auri/gifts).



It's not like he needs to be touched, surely, but Yuuri can admit to himself that he _wants_ it.

Maybe even needs it, too.

His family should be enough for him. They are warm and supporting, and they never shied away from physical affection as he grew up. Other people can touch him, and Yuuri accepts them. Minako- _sensei_ often pulls him into one-armed hugs. Yuuko and Nishigori, too. Phichit, since they shared an apartment for a while. His various coaches -- but that wasn't really _warm._ They touched him as part of their profession. Phichit was the only person who touched him as a friend.

Then there's Viktor, who touches him all the time.

Most people make him nervous. He can barely stand people on a good day and avoids human interaction the rest of the time. His default is to stand alone, apart from the crowd. Even when he's performing, he has a habit of drawing into himself, hiding his emotions, until he gets on the ice. Since he skates solo, nobody bothers to touch him then. The rest of the time, his glower keeps people away.

And yet.

And yet, Yuuri wants to be held. He wants someone's hands on him. He wants warm arms to wrap around him, for another's fingers to entwine with his, for a cuddle on the couch. He missed his dog and his family while he lived and studied in America. Even though Phichit was happy to pull him into a hug, it just wasn't what he wanted. For years, he ignored his own needs, and by the time Viktor strolls into Yuutopia, Yuuri is starving for affection.

He has _needs._ Too bad he has no idea how to convey them.

Yet Viktor seems to understand, anyway. At least, that's what Yuuri assumes, because Viktor may actually be a human version of a barnacle. Unlike anyone else in the world, he won't _stop_ touching Yuuri.

He touches Yuuri everywhere, all the time. All through practice, he corrects Yuuri's posture, his positions, his clothes. He grabs Yuuri's arm whenever he wants attention. He wraps his arms around Yuuri's shoulders when they're watching TV or looking at videos together. They sit side by side in the bath, shoulders and hips nearly touching -- and isn't _that_ a shock, each time it does happen? Yuuri is mortified by how much Viktor touches him, and how much he _enjoys_ it.

Yuuri gets overwhelmed by a single hand on his waist. Yet Viktor never does anything to make him truly uncomfortable. It's as if he realizes Yuuri's limits, and due to this kindness, Yuuri slowly gets used to it over time. He starts to crave Viktor's touch.

Sometimes he leans into Viktor's side. Sometimes, rarely, he reaches out on his own. Each time, Viktor looks at him with that beautiful smile, approving, and touches Yuuri more. Every moment is wonderful, even though...

Even though Yuuri wants _more_.

He spent years focused on his skating, on Viktor, and as such, he ignored his own life and love. To Yuuri's embarrassment, he has never had a lover. Sure, he has gone out with people on occasion, but it never went past holding hands. He is a virgin in every sense of the word, and he hates it.

He craves Viktor's touch, and that includes the more erotic side of touching. The kind that Yuuri falls asleep to fantasizing about, his hand down his pants and his skin sweaty with need. Sex is something foreign, which is why _katsudon_ leapt to the front of his brain when he was asked what he desired.

He's touched himself, often with mixed results. While some things are fairly standard, he has a hard time getting out of his own head and enjoying it. He wants someone else to take control and guide him through the pleasure, but he has never trusted anyone enough to ask. His favorite fantasies are the only way to carry through the task, sometimes. And they always involve Viktor.

Viktor's hands, Viktor's body, Viktor's smile. Yuuri craves them all. He _needs_ them.

Viktor's eyes on him. Which is unfortunate, because now, Viktor is _always_ watching him, and he touches Yuuri in ways that make Yuuri's heart thrum, beating fast in excitement -- excitement he needs to hide, because spandex reveals all. 

He manages well enough. Getting into his practice mindset makes him concentrate on his skating, not his dick. He can focus on skating, which is enough most of the time. Even with Viktor's looks and touches and mere presence -- which is powerful enough to make Yuuri's nerves _sing_ \-- he handles it.

Until one day, everything between them changes.

He's been working on Eros all day. Viktor wants him to try out a new transition, so he's been refining the program. He's spent the whole day with the constant thought of "I'll tease him so that he wants me." The emotions in the skate leave him on edge, teetering toward desire, _need_. Yuuri needs quite a lot, and he has no idea how to ask for it, or if Viktor even wants to give it.

Every time he looks over at his coach, Viktor is watching him, eyes keen and somewhat dark. The sight of him always sends a thrill through Yuuri. With that attention, heady and electrifying, he puts on a bit of a show in the afternoon practice, and he is rewarded when Viktor skates out to correct his position at one point, putting large hands on Yuuri's upper thighs. 

He can imagine those powerful hands holding him up, the only thing keeping him in the air, while Viktor kisses him.

(He has a thought brewing, simmering. What if he and Viktor did a pair skate? They could... he's done lifts before... so has Viktor... but that's a thought for another day.)

When practice ends, Yuuri fumbles over his words, telling Viktor just to go back while he closes up -- he'll be home later, he needs to run an errand, it's fine -- and all but shoves Viktor out of the rink. When he's certain that Viktor has left to take his skates off, Yuuri flees to the locker room and hides, pressing a hand against his hard cock and fighting a whimper. 

He knows he won't make it home in such a state, so he thinks, _surely it won't last too long, I can take care of this quickly and then go home and never look Viktor in the eye again._

(He's done this before. He will. He can't keep himself from meeting Viktor's eyes.)

He's barely slid his hand into his pants before the door opens and Viktor walks in. They freeze and stare at each other, eyes wide. Yuuri is mortified. He has his fist around his cock and the tip is barely peeking over his pants, and Viktor's eyes are on his body, his sweaty, gross, _aroused_ body.

Yuuri can't say anything. He wonders if he can climb out the window, but Viktor might follow him. He tenses when Viktor closes the door and steps into the room, his footsteps slow and even as he approaches. Yuuri thinks about moving, about taking his hand off his cock -- _which is still hard please go down please please please_ \-- only to let out a squeak of shock when Viktor's fingers wrap around his wrist.

Viktor's hand is hot. Yuuri stares down at it resting on his skin, inches away from his cock. A tiny pearl of precome slides down from the tip, as if to hint that Viktor's fingers alone could bring him to orgasm, and Yuuri closes his eyes. Time to hack his own brain, disengage consciousness, and flee the atmosphere.

Viktor's fingers tighten. "You could have asked me for help," says Viktor's low, impossible voice. A moment later, soft lips touch his forehead, and Yuuri gasps, arching his back involuntarily.

"I -- I --"

"All you have to do is crook a finger, and I will come to you. I will _come_ for you. And this..." Viktor's fingers loosen their grip, trailing carefully down the length of Yuuri's hand, then closing loosely around his fingers still wrapped around his cock. The gentle pressure makes Yuuri's entire body throb. "This deserves all of my attention. May I?"

Yuuri doesn't think. He merely nods, and the relief of giving in, of giving Viktor control, is tremendous, making Yuuri's knees tremble. He sighs shakily and leans into Viktor, just as he would any other day -- except now he feels Viktor's warmth in a different way. Viktor's neck is sweaty, sticky against his forehead, but Yuuri doesn't care. A strong arm wraps around his waist, leaning him back against the wall, and Yuuri closes his eyes as Viktor brushes his hand away and takes over, wrapping long fingers around his cock.

He moans. Viktor breathes out a shaky sigh against his hair, his hand tightening before slowly sliding downward. His fingers are gentle as they are any other time they touch Yuuri, but now they are firm in their exploration. They are touching Yuuri's most intimate place, and Yuuri cannot help the whimper that escapes his throat.

"Viktor, please..."

"I've got you," Viktor murmurs, and he begins to stroke Yuuri in earnest. Yuuri's hands fly up to grip Viktor's shirt, pulling on it a little. Enough that his wrist can brush Viktor's skin as the shirt slips upwards. Suddenly, he wants to touch _all_ of Viktor, but his hands are too busy holding on tightly, as if he will fall if he lets go. He bites down another whimper and tightens his grip, wondering if he will rip Viktor's shirt -- and then he is imagining Viktor shirtless, something he has seen a hundred times now. He wants so badly to touch...

He realizes he can feel Viktor against his hip. Viktor's _cock_. Viktor, hard for him -- hard for _Yuuri_ , the plainest of all the people in the world. He moans helplessly, thrusting his hips without thinking, wanting to be closer to that blazing, brilliant heat. Viktor wants him, and Yuuri is --

Viktor's grip tightens. Yuuri chokes on a gasp, lifting his head, and suddenly his mouth is occupied by soft lips. Viktor kisses like he skates -- consuming, powerful, loving. Yuuri feels himself drowning, his heart full to burst, and he wants nothing more than to kiss Viktor like this forever. To have Viktor's hands on him every day for the rest of his life, however long or short it may be.

"Yuuri, you're so beautiful, _subarashii, ty samyy krasivyy_ \--" Viktor's voice is hushed against his lips, unable to pull away even to speak the words. Yuuri's heart spikes with love at hearing Japanese, then shy pleasure at the Russian. He knows those words, but their meanings are beyond him. He doesn't deserve them. He's just plain, simple, ordinary Yuuri.

"Something else," Viktor says suddenly, his voice hoarse. Yuuri opens his eyes as Viktor pulls his hands away. He hears clothes rustling and drops his eyes eagerly, gasping when he sees Viktor dragging his pants and underwear down enough for his cock to fall out, heavy and dripping with precome. Viktor's cock is beautiful. Long and thick and curving near the tip, making Yuuri's mouth water. He wants to look his fill, maybe even reach out and touch, but Viktor's hands are sliding down his legs, reaching under his ass and lifting.

Yuuri pulls his legs up without thinking, hooking them over Viktor's hips. He cries out as their cocks slot together, his back pressing more firmly against the wall. Viktor looms over him, his eyes bright with emotions that Yuuri dares not name, desire heavy on his face.

"Wrap your hands around us, Yuuri," Viktor whispers. His hands are busy holding Yuuri in place. Yuuri swallows and looks down at their cocks, resting so simply together, yet Yuuri can feel every nerve touching Viktor's soft, hot skin sparking with fiery want. He swallows and reaches between them, cautiously wrapping his fingers around both of them.

It takes both hands. As Yuuri tightens his grip, Viktor moans and thrusts forward. The drag of his hips, of his thick cock against Yuuri's, makes Yuuri see stars. He squeezes both hands around them, and Viktor begins to push into the circle of his fingers, driving Yuuri's cock to slide with the movement. All the while he holds Yuuri up with those strong hands, his neck and face flushed beautifully, those eyes fastened to Yuuri's face.

All Yuuri can hear is their soft pants, his own whimpers and Viktor's moans. The slick sound of his hands pumping their cocks. It sounds lewd and filthy, even more so than any time he has ever masturbated. That's Viktor's cock, making those noises. That's Viktor, moaning Yuuri's name. He sounds so much better than any of Yuuri's fantasies.

Yuuri lifts his head and meets Viktor's gaze once. Heat flows through him, cresting, and he cries out, his body wracking as Viktor's thrusts send him over the edge. He holds on tightly, his come slicking his grip, and Viktor's movements grow frenzied, until his thick seed begins to spurt over Yuuri's mess, hitting his stomach, his cock.

 _Viktor's come is on my cock,_ Yuuri thinks dizzily, before he loses consciousness.

He wakes up on his back, on a mat on the floor of the locker room. His clothes are pulled back into place, and his shirt is damp, as if it has been wiped with a wet cloth. Viktor sits beside him, nervously tapping his phone against his lips, staring off to the side. Yuuri watches him for a moment, seeing the flush of their shared orgasm combined with faint worry.

He smiles and sits up. Viktor starts in surprise, his mouth opening over Yuuri's name, but Yuuri interrupts him with a kiss. He reaches for the phone and sets it down, then puts Viktor's hands on his waist, as he leans closer to feel Viktor's warmth, his hands sliding up Viktor's neck. He feels the tension drain out of Viktor, before the kiss deepens.

"Okay?" Viktor asks when he pulls away, but not too far. His forehead touches Yuuri's, his blue eyes soft. One hand has slipped under Yuuri's shirt to stroke his skin.

"Okay," Yuuri agrees, curling his fingers into Viktor's hair. He could get used to Viktor touching him like this.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! (*´♡`*)


End file.
